Innocent Until Proven Guilty
by drippingpineapple
Summary: Sirius had spent the last two years of his life couped up like a chicken in Azkaban. Maybe he was a chicken, if he didn't resign as a secret keeper then his two best friends would be alive and his godson would have parents. Just as Sirius was getting sick and tired of being useless, someone shows him a way out, legally.


I close my eyes, hoping that my dearest cousins deranged laughter would come to an end, why she was laughing? I have not a single clue, nothing about this place is funny, from its stone walls to its stink of sweat and other disgusting elements. The laughter hushes as I hear the creaking of the telephone booths door, a new prisoner? Fresh meat is what the people here like best. I'm sure most of them are death eaters, not me though. As the tapping of boots nears me, I turn back into my human form and a surge of sadness hits me. Ah, I think, so this is why they're all insane. I look through the thick iron bars at a man screaming at the top of his lungs, his dark mark glowing on his pale skin. I remember when I first came to this horrendous place.

_The black walls, the raging wind, the crashing of the waves, the screams and laughs erupting from that place filled the surrounding area with noise. I looked up at the top, that's where I would be staying for, who knows how long. I felt a weight on my chest, the familiar feeling of fear filled__ me, my body ached, I heard a boom and saw__ an explosion. Why was there an explosion? I thought and looked up at the tower again black cloaks floated in the surrounding area, dementors! Of course, why was I such an idiot? Happy thoughts, happy thoughts._

_'Black,' a voice snarled 'we won't wait for you, hurry up.' _

_I noticed the boat had docked and stood up, the shackles that loosely joined my feet together rattled as I stepped out of the boat. They led me into Azkaban. _

_Surprisingly, the place had a comforting feeling to it. They undid my chains and they gave me a pyjama-like uniform to wear. I was led to a changing room of sorts, I changed, leaving my original clothes scattered on the floor of the small room. I watched the Aurors walk away with my favourite suit, I assumed they were going to burn it, after taking everything that was valuable, of course. The guards indicated for me to follow them, they led me into a telephone booth, an auror was already there, the second he saw me he muttered something into the telephone he was holding. The telephone booth jerked upwards, and I instantly felt nauseous. The booth finally stopped and I felt like vomiting, sadly, there was nothing to vomit out. As the guards walked out the door the manical laughter stopped. I looked around at my fellow prisoners, their beady eyes all watched me, their sleeves rolled up showing their hideous Dark Marks. I locked eyes with my cousin and she gave me an I-knew-you-would-come-into-the-dark-side smirk._

_'Black?' one of the guards said as he stopped in front of the cell to the right of my **dearest **cousins 'I hope you're well acquainted with your cousin?'_

_I almost snorted the same cousin who taunted me every Christmas after I was disowned, shoving her presents in my face. The same cousin who carried a pouch of gallons and threw one at me whenever she passed. I was well acquainted with what she did, attempting to stop her and her fellow Death Eaters from completing their tasks. I was well aware that she tried to pinpoint James and Lily's, and Frank and Alice's locations. _

_'Of course,' I remarked_

_I walked into the cell, there were lines etched onto the stone walls, some lines deeper than others. The toilet and sink were stored away in one corner of the cell. While an unmade cot sat in another corner. The cell was strangely big, such luxury, I thought. The cot was hidden from outside view, stowed away in a dark corner where no light shined. A tray of food slid under the bars in my direction. _

The sound of a metal tray scratching against the stone floor wakes me from my thoughts. I turn around, almost instinctively, and carve a line into the grey walls. The putrid smell of meatloaf fills my senses, it's Monday. Our cook always makes meatloaf on Monday, turkey and cheese baguettes on Tuesday, wild rice and curry on Wednesday, tomato soup on Thursday, Fish and chips on Friday, salad on Saturday, and sardines on Sunday. I am craving food, good food, not the slop that they serve us in Azkaban. Biscuits, crumpets, and tea. A sweet Eton Mess during the hot summer. Really, anything had to be better than this slop. I even miss the taste of my cousin's, Narcissa's, cooking, and that's really saying something. Scowling, I stab the small plastic fork they give us into the slushy meatloaf. I take a bite and wince as the hot food scorches my tongue. It's absolutely flavourless, as expected. I quickly finish off the meatloaf to prevent my cell smelling like said meatloaf.

My cousin lets out a loud laugh from the cell next to mine and starts dragging her tray against the floor, I quickly cover my ears as the other inmates imitate her movements. They must be the worst accapella group in history, and to think, my cousin had singing lessons. I walk over to the corner where my cot lay and attempt to doze off.

In Azkaban, there's no perception of time. The walls are a dark grey, the ceiling is pitch black with dim lights shining onto the limestone floor, the iron bars of our cells are covered in rust and it smells horrid. Even when they let us out of our cells, we aren't permitted to go outside. Even if we did all we'd be met by is clouds, water and dementors. There's only one window in the entire building, the small window that sits on the door to Azkaban.

They let us out our cells everyday, and give us two dishes a day, breakfast is always a cucumber sandwich whereas lunch is different for every day of the week. They only allow us to walk on our respective floors. Whenever our floor is allowed to wander, everyone but me sits in a circle, their left sleeves raised and they talk, presumably about The Dark Lord.

Two claps ring out and all of the inmates march back to their respective cells. I lay on my cot, eyes closed, trying to concentrate on happy thoughts.

'Black,' A voice bellows, my eyes snap open. 'you have a visitor.'


End file.
